


Amongst the Lilies Fair

by phantomphan28



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Footnotes, Implied Sexual Content, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), Nonbinary Character, Pre-Apocalypse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 08:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19352917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomphan28/pseuds/phantomphan28
Summary: We vowed no guide nor lightThan that which burned so deeply in my heartAn angel and a demon meet in a misty wood





	Amongst the Lilies Fair

A heavy mist had settled over the grounds of the Dowling residence. The soft chirps of the insects and croaks of the frogs created their own strange symphony in the night. All the residents in the great manor, family and staff alike, lay sleeping in their beds, dreaming peacefully.

All but one.

Crowley sat on the edge of their bed, idly toying with their crimson hair, wavy from being pinned up all day. Their spectacles sat on the bedside table, for they weren’t needed now to shield their serpentine eyes; there were no humans up at this hour to be frightened by the strange color and shape.

With a soft sigh, Crowley rose from the bed and padded over to the nightstand to check their reflection, then slipped a black gossamer robe over their satin nightgown and crept out of their room in slippered feet. As silent as a breath, Crowley walked through the hallways of the servants’ quarters, robe billowing behind them as they reached a small, forgotten door tucked into a corner. They opened it, and followed the narrow stairs down to the ground floor and out into the garden.

Crowley hurried across the misty lawns towards the woods at the edge of the estate, with only a faint glimmer of starlight to illuminate their path. They followed the winding trail deeper and deeper into the woods, until they reached a small clearing. They quietly crossed it and took in an unusual sight.

Lying at the bottom of a copse of cedar trees was a man, both impossibly old and impossibly young at the same time. His arms were akimbo, one tucked under his head and the other draped across his belly. He wore the rough-and-tumble garments of a gardener, but not the gardener’s face, all buck teeth and bushy eyebrows.1 Instead, he had a sweet, cherubic2 face, gently relaxed as he drowsed at the trees' roots.

Crowley smiled and knelt down, tracing their fingers against the man's soft cheek and brushing his platinum curls away from his brow. They were loathe to wake him, but they _did_ have a rendezvous planned, after all. They gently pressed their hand to his shoulder and gave it a little shake.

"Aziraphale? Angel, wake up. I'm here."

Aziraphale stirred and opened his eyes with a smile.

"Hello, my darling." He slowly sat up. "How long was I--"

"Shh..." Crowley pressed a finger to Aziraphale's lips. "Don't worry about that, love. We're together now, alone at last."

Aziraphale pursed his lips against Crowley's finger, kissing it. "I worried for a moment you wouldn't come."

Crowley trailed their hand away from the angel's lips and down to the center of his chest, gently pressing him down to the ground. "All the Hellhounds in creation couldn't have kept me away." They straddled Aziraphale's hips and leaned in, kissing him deeply and reverently.

Aziraphale reached up and entangled his fingers in Crowley's ruby hair as they kissed. Eventually, they broke apart, panting for air that they didn't really need. Crowley eased out of their robe and let it fall to the wayside, then magicked away their knickers.

"Let me lose myself to you, Beloved." They whispered in the angel's ear. Aziraphale's only response was a slow, mute nod.

They made love beneath the copse of cedars through the night. At the end, spent, Crowley slumped down next to Aziraphale, gasping with exertion and bliss. They laid their head on the angel's chest, soothed by the steady beat of his corporation's heart.

They sighed. "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth..."3

"Incorrigible." Aziraphale huffed, stroking Crowley's hair.

"Yes, but you love it."

"Not nearly as much as I love you, my dear Crowley."

They let a blush sweep across their cheeks. Six thousand years, and they never tired of hearing those three little words. With a contented smile, they snuggled close to their angel and closed their eyes. Tomorrow, they would have to go back to their separate worlds and agendas. But, for this moment in time, they laid together and waited for the coming dawn.

* * *

 _I remained, lost in oblivion;_  
_My face I reclined on the Beloved._  
_All ceased and I abandoned myself,_  
_Leaving my cares_  
_forgotten among the lilies._

 _-St. John of the Cross,_  
_"Dark Night of the Soul"_

* * *

* * *

1 Crowley found that infinitely preferable; the disguise made the poor thing look like a member of his family had unfortunate relations with a gopher.

2 In this case, more Botticelli angel, less Biblically accurate. Crowley did _not_ find three extra faces (all animal), two extra wings, and hooves in any way attractive.

3 Song of Solomon 1:2

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song "The Dark Night of the Soul" by Loreena McKennitt


End file.
